our own little world
by dearlambie
Summary: a collection of one-shots for my first and forever OTP, Yusuke x Keiko. Prompt #22 - Turquoise: "What does spirit energy feel like, anyway?" /50scenes.
1. 41 - Kiss

**Author's Note:** For the record, I really mean it when I say first and forever OTP. This ship's been sailing almost a decade, wayyy before I knew what ships were. And despite having been "writing fanfiction" for the same amount of time, this is my first actual published story, so please be kind. Constructive criticism is sincerely welcome. :)

The prompts are all pulled from an old 50scenes livejournal floating on an old jump drive for inspiration. Rating is also subject to change.

 **xxx**

 **41\. Kiss**

 _Come on, you took on Toguro and won. Just do it._

His best friend stood in front of him, textbook in hand, routine chiding spilling from her lips. The words flew over the boy's head in the breeze, though he'd heard them so many times by now he probably could recite her lecture from memory. Yusuke wasn't listening, but he could tell by her tone that Keiko hadn't quite reached annoyed or angry ... yet. Still, even if Sarayashiki Jr. High's number one student didn't want to kill its number one delinquent now, she definitely would after this. Clammy palms clenched into fists; he buried them in his pockets.

"... and if you're lucky, _maybe_ I can talk Mr. Sato into giving you an extension..."

Yusuke's mind raced. There were a million good reasons not to go through with it – several of which involved her palm connecting with his face – and yet, he knew he had to anyway.

And, if _Kuwabara_ could screw up the courage to spill his heart to the young red-eyed demon girl he just met, then he could manage this.

Keiko carried on and the boy avoided meeting her wide brown eyes. It didn't take much to remind Yusuke of the panic behind them on Suzaku's widescreen only a few weeks ago. She fretted over his term paper, but that expression triggered intense memories of desperation and electrocution and being farther away from her than he had ever been in his life.

For the third time, his Spirit World business put Keiko into trouble, and Yusuke found himself, with increasing frequency, willing to risk _everything_ to keep her safe.

Despite whatever he told Botan, even Yusuke had to concede that the insistent denial, at this point, was all crap. He _must_ be repressed if it took 10,000 volts of demon lightning to make him realize he loved Keiko Yukimura.

And what about Keiko? Lately, all his senses heightened around her; now and again, Yusuke noticed something that sparked tentative flickers of hope somewhere deep in his chest. As a ghost, he'd caught her leaning in toward his soulless body in an attempt to steal a tender (if not a little creepy) moment. But then, the lighthearted way she laughed over chocolate milkshakes when he finally returned after training with Genkai; or her painfully obvious jealousy whenever she found him talking with a certain ponytailed ferry girl.

Over and over, Yusuke berated himself for reading too far into it, but then in her (presumably) last moments, Keiko cried out _his_ name.

Keiko asked him to be honest, and while Yusuke could not explain that her childhood friend saved her life from a sadistic, blonde, _tone-deaf_ asshole by shooting bullets of blue light from his fingertips because he loved her, he could maybe at least let her know he liked her.

Also, goddamn if Kuwabara of all people showed him up.

Being up so high on the roof, the wind tousled her short hair in a distracting way. The detective breathed deeply – now or never. _Seriously, if she gets mad, she's the one who tried it first._

"Yusuke, really, you're not even listeni-"

 _Screw it._

The tip of his nose bumped the bridge of hers, and the heady, familiar scent of cigarette smoke and sweat rushed her senses. Cinnamon colored eyes widened in astonishment.

Keiko's immediate instinct told her to reel back and strike, knowing very well what happens when Yusuke brazenly invaded her space. Years of spending time around him warned her to watch for his hands (which remained in his pockets) or his vulgar mouth (the one firmly pressed against hers). Keiko froze, waiting for his worst, but, for some reason, reluctant to pull away.

Yusuke froze as well. She had never known her friend to be still in his life; he constantly fidgeted – bored or agitated or itching to get under the girl's skin – but now, all his energy seemed laser focused on that one small point of contact.

He kissed her, chaste and inexperienced. Their bodies stood awkwardly far apart, but her face was so close – all heat and breath and the soft brush of her bangs against his forehead.

Keiko's lips fit neatly against his, warm and still, and likewise something seemed to come together in Yusuke's mind: this was it. She was it. No one knew him better than her; no one stayed by his side for as long. As stupid and cheesy as it sounded, Yusuke owed his life to her, and not just because of that _first_ kiss but because he probably wouldn't have even made it to fourteen without Keiko cutting through his anger and melancholy and making everything a little bit nicer just by being around…

If she didn't push him away now, Yusuke knew they would spend the rest of their lives together.

The teen intended to be quick – make it obvious how he felt and get out. Somehow, he didn't back off until his lungs were calling for air.

Blood rushed to his ears and Yusuke dropped his eyes to avoid meeting hers. Instead, he noticed her knuckles were blanched white around the spine of her textbook. _Damnit_. Despite feeling maybe somewhat-fairly confident since returning from Maze Castle, he'd miscalculated. The uncomfortable, nearly tangible, silence weighed down from all sides.

The detective lifted his gaze just enough to appreciate a flush of color around her collar. There were only two options: offer a sincere apology or the usual, easier route - flip her skirt and hope Keiko would get mad enough to forget the whole thing.

Keiko still felt dazed but appraised the boy in front of her. Yusuke's shoulders were tensed and on the defensive, as if he were bracing for her impending indignation. His hands still hid in his pockets, mouth drawn in a tight, thin line; but his eyes looked plainly wide and anxious - an emotion she _never_ found there. A well-known tangle of exasperation and embarrassment and affection settled behind her breastbone.

 _The idiot_. His timing was pretty terrible; why do this now, when the bell was about to ring?

x

Pulse pounded loudly in his ears as Yusuke backed Keiko against the concrete. His arms started to feel heavy and awkward at his sides, and he found it more comfortable to press his still sweaty palms to the wall on either side of her body, trapping her there and closing the space between them.

As a Spirit Detective, Yusuke considered himself pretty damn good at confronting unfamiliar situations, and even better at responding with some sort of action. But romance? He'd felt better equipped facing the leader of the Saint Beasts with nothing but his fists and his _shoes_. Her teeth sometimes knocked against Yusuke's painfully, and their mouths made wet noises loud enough to make Keiko blush, but neither stopped. Swallowing embarrassment and ignoring the uneasiness it created in his stomach, Yusuke considered their positions: boy snaring girl in a kabe-don on the school rooftop; he silently wished the situation didn't remind Keiko of a shoujo manga like it did him. _How lame_.

Despite having been caught by Yusuke, she didn't slap him - generally a good sign - and he thought the corners of Keiko's mouth turned up as if in a smile. A bit more reassured, instinct took over (something else he excelled at).

Yusuke's nose pushed into hers harder, mouth parting to better catch her bottom lip. She shifted and Keiko's warm tongue reached out to slide across his lips tentatively and then inside, and an electricity _much_ more pleasant than Suzaku's shot down his spine. His hands left the wall to grasp her arms, right by her shoulders, in an attempt to ground himself.

Keiko had yet to ease up on the book; her fingertips started tingling as they went numb.

Vaguely, the girl realized class already started, and while it was standard for Yusuke to be absent, her English teacher would definitely notice his top student missing. Oh - and that paper due today.

 _I can turn it in later, I guess..._ Keiko thought. It would be difficult convincing Mr. Sato to excuse her tardiness _and_ not fail Yusuke. Nor would it be easy explaining to Mr. Takenaka why they were _both_ absent. She felt like a hypocrite, for choosing to stay on the rooftop only a few minutes after admonishing Yusuke for it, but none of that mattered. The boy in front of her - the cynical, rough, beautiful boy with the terrible timing - was far too distracting to really care.

 **xxx**

 **Author's Note:** I have this theory that Yusuke and Keiko were actually going out through the middle of the series (and not just 'two best friends with a whole lot of sexual tension'). I know it's not explicitly stated – but you have to wonder at lines like "You know he has the hots for you." "I know." Or how sincerely Yusuke talks about Keiko when she's not around. Not to mention she's constantly introduced as his girlfriend and neither of them seem to mind very much (as opposed to the way he flipped out in the beginning). Just a thought – and with the added subtext, it makes watching and writing them more fun for me.

FYI- "…took on Toguro and won" refers to the first time they fought in Tarukane's mansion.  
FYI#2- I know forced kisses are not romantic (neither is commenting on the state of the other's underwear, or slapping each other in the face, etc...). It's kind of just the way the series is. For any other couple I wouldn't let it happen but there are just so many good 90s anime cliches in there I think it's appropriate.


	2. 01 - Needles

**Author's Note:** As much as I make Yusuke x Keiko so fluffy in my head, I really appreciate the more problematic aspects of Yusuke's character and their relationship. Every time I go back and watch YYH, I'm impressed with how complex he is underneath a deceptively straightforward personality. So I triiied… Set somewhere between the end of the Dark Tournament and the beginning of Chapter Black.

 **xxx**

 **01\. Needles**

"Kuwabara told me why you've been in such a bad mood lately."

The boy shut his eyes and released a harsh breath at the sound of her voice. Typical Keiko – _of course_ she found him.

The last peals of the school bell hung in the air, but Yusuke kept to his spot. He remained quiet – tucked comfortably underneath a shady tree, arms folded behind his head, scowling and annoyed she'd somehow managed to discover his hiding spot… again. For once, the delinquent didn't care about picking a fight and hoped blatant rudeness would send the message instead.

But if there was one thing Yusuke couldn't stand about Keiko, she was too stubborn to take a fucking hint.

Aware of her cinnamon eyes just staring at him, Yusuke glanced up. She would stand there all goddamn day until he spoke to her. Keiko's thin, dainty eyebrows were drawn together, and she held her briefcase stiffly across her chest.

"Yeah, and?"

"We're just- I mean... _I'm_ just worried about you," she began anxiously. "He said you're bored because you wish you could find someone stronger…"

Keiko spent a lifetime learning to read the boy in front of her– how he spoke and moved, everything that set him off and what was needed to reel him in again. And while all of this new Spirit World business threatened to complicate that, Keiko found she still could read him: even though his job was dangerous, Yusuke took pride in it; his talent for fighting made him happy, and he'd finally found others - like Hiei or Jin - that were like himself. But to actively seek out another fighter like Risho or Karasu? Keiko didn't understand him at all. She thought Yusuke would be relieved now that the tournament ended.

"Doesn't that sound like what Toguro wanted?"

The words sunk in, snapping the detective out of his apathy, and he stared at her in disbelief. Silence hung, heavy and uncomfortable, in the air between them.

Yusuke knew Keiko clearly didn't realize the implications of what she said. He'd never told her all the details of his mentor's thorny relationship with his most dangerous rival. Never mentioned how even a week out, Genkai's strained last breath, Kuwabara's lifeless body, Keiko's hollow eyes – they all left an acrid taste in his mouth. That Yusuke felt stupid for ever admiring him and resented himself for pining after what Toguro had. That there might have been a sliver of truth to her concern…

It wasn't her fault, and yet-

Yusuke rose to his feet, shoulders squared, standing a few inches too close to feel comfortable - intimidation tactics honed from years of getting into fights and establishing his bad reputation. A small part of him reveled in finally being tall enough to leer down at her. "Don't compare me to Toguro," he spat.

The venom laced in the boy's voice was so thick, it practically stung. He adopted the aggressive posture for delinquents foolish enough to challenge him - or Kuwabara - but _never_ for her. It felt wrong. However, the girl fought the urge to take a step back; even now, she had no reason to be afraid of Yusuke. Keiko bit her lip and pushed her hair behind her ear nervously. "...It's just that, I get this is all for your job, but now it's like you're _asking_ for a fi-"

"Listen, Keiko, I didn't ask for shit."

Keiko flinched at his language, and he paused to feel good about it. "I never asked for anything," he continued. "All I tried to do was save that kid. And 'cause of that, me and Kuwabara and Botan and the rest of us have almost kicked the bucket more times than I can count." (She hugged her bag a little tighter.) "This has been my life for the last ten months; you've known for two weeks. So don't come with the lecture acting like you understand it."

Dammit. Of course she didn't understand. _He_ didn't understand. Fighting, getting stronger, being a Spirit Detective – for a short while, distracted him from his miserable life. But he tapped his well of opponents dry in less than a year, and here we were again - ditching class, nursing ma's hangovers, feeling isolated and angry, as if nothing had changed.

He glared, frustrated. It's not like he wanted to risk his own (or anybody else's) life again anytime soon, but it didn't change the fact that not risking it left him _bored_.

She stood stock-still, concern etched across pretty features, but at a loss for anything to say. Yusuke knew he wasn't being fair - he could think of a dozen Kasanegafuchi jerks to take his anger out on before he took it out on Keiko - but continued anyway, bristling, "So you can dish out the bitching but can't take it, huh?"

Keiko did step backwards after all. Tears welled in her eyes – eyelashes glistening – but he wasn't in the mood to take it back.

…That didn't mean he wanted to see her cry either. " _Shit_ ," he hissed. Yusuke looked away just as the droplets spilled over and left her standing there as he stalked off, hands buried deep in his pockets.

If Kuwabara's sixth sense was worth a damn, it'd keep his dumb ass _far_ away from him.

 **xxx**

 **Author's Note:** Oh, it's terrible to leave it like that. You know Yusuke's going to appear again later, sorry and sulky and knowing he acted like a dick. I hope this isn't _too_ harsh though. Yusuke's voice came fairly naturally, but it's right on the borderline for me. Please share what you think!


	3. 25 - View

**Author's Note:** I know this is an unacceptable amount of time to go between updates (for all 8 of you). The outlines for several chapters are written, but it takes me a while to get around to fleshing them out. Studying for boards has left me creatively bankrupt and without a lot of free time, but exams and applications will be over in September and things should pick up. I'm just realizing 50scenes is going to take quite a long time, especially at my pace, but I'm in need of a sustainable creative outlet during residency anyways; I'm going to be a doctor that writes anime fanfiction.

.

The English dub for YYH is the crowning achievement of cheesy 90's English anime dubbing. So many liberties taken with the script, so many fake accents and bad puns… and yet the cast is pretty spot on, they're all able to deliver emotion really well, and I find myself enjoying the stupid, glaringly dated jokes in spite of myself…

This chapter inspired by a gem of a line I found on my most recent re-watch.

 **xxx**

 **25\. View**

It was _very_ hot. Unusually so for a day in the middle of May. Beads of liquid formed at the boy's hairline and the thin layer of sweat he felt all over made him uncomfortable under his uniform. He almost always skipped gym, but today he picked a damn good day to do it; Yusuke did not envy his classmates - running laps for almost an hour in circles around Sarayashiki's small track. He peered around the corner (looking pretty suspicious), relieved to find himself alone, before stalking to the back of the building.

Yusuke frequently danced on the edge of expulsion, so this might not have been the best idea, but then again, he was not usually known for having good ideas.

Yusuke Urameshi came with a long list of vices: a low threshold for starting fights, and an even lower one for going easy on those punks once he had. He was a horrible student and close to failing every one of his classes (including Phys. Ed.). Started smoking when he turned twelve years old; wouldn't deny having stolen a dirty magazine from the convenience store once or twice…

The delinquent felt sure he wasn't the first, and he wouldn't be the last, to discover the little window with the flimsy pop out screen to the girl's locker room... so he had no reservations about adding voyeurism to that list.

He _was_ a teenager after all.

The gaggle of chatty girls filed in, and Yusuke's eyes glinted mischievously. Snippets of separate conversations reached his ears; typical schoolgirl stuff from what he could tell – ranging from homework to crushes to how _unfair_ it was of coach to make them run an extra two kilometers on such a swelteringly hot day. Not that he _really_ listened, of course, more interested in his female classmates who were all too eager to change out of thin sweaty t-shirts and tiny gym shorts.

As he watched, Yusuke thought himself less of a degenerate engaged in anti-social and borderline criminal behavior and more of a nature scientist observing a herd - one fully occupied with humming ear-wormy pop songs and sharing sticky-looking lip gloss. His interest piqued, watching them tilt their heads back to hydrate or bend at the hips to stretch out sore calves; although, it did disappoint to learn that most middle school girls didn't bother to match their bras to their underwear.

His lips turned in a lopsided smirk when he caught sight of Keiko's tall friend with the blonde ponytails trapped in her shirt, both her elbows stuck halfway through pulling it over her head.

But, his eyebrows shot up when he recognized the person beside her.

She expertly pulled thick, chestnut locks into two familiar pigtails and Yusuke paled, all too familiar with those damn pigtails. He watched them bounce and taunt every time he walked her home; made it a point to pull the ends as often as he thought he could get away with - emphasizing that she wasn't in elementary school anymore and should _stop wearing her hair that way._ Yusuke didn't claim to know anything about fashion sense, but they were _the worst_. The pigtails made her look deceptively sweet and innocent when the stupid girly hairstyle belied the annoying, violent, rapidly developing young woman she really was underneath.

Shiny strands fell across her fair shoulders – fairer than the rest of her skin from the lack of sun. His throat suddenly dried up, and Yusuke forced himself to swallow. The boy felt inexplicably unsettled and tried his best to focus on the baby hairs at the nape of her neck, slightly damp with sweat after running laps.

Mahogany eyes wandered, unable to help it, following the column of her neck down her slender frame – shoulders tapering into ribcage into narrow waist before widening back out to hips he swore didn't look that full the day before. The gentle curve of her spine – interrupted by the stark white line of her bra strap – underscored perfect posture. Fluorescent, artificial lights cast subtle shadows under her ribs and highlighted the vertebrae in her back. She had a mole, just to the right of center and above the waistline of her pleated skirt, he never knew existed.

Yusuke's pulse picked up, beating like a drum in his neck and sending a flush of heat into his ears, disturbed that in a room full of cleavage and panties, Keiko's _back_ provoked his body to react. The teen had already caught dozens of glimpses underneath her skirt and was more intimately acquainted with the swell of her breasts than he had any right to be. Why the anxiety?

He acted like an asshole all of the time; why decide now to _feel_ so much like one?

Something vaguely uncomfortable panged around Yusuke's stomach – like a weird prickly feeling he couldn't shake easily. He'd never seen so much of her private skin all at once – at least not without being followed by the harsh reprimand he knew he deserved. The rest of the girls he could care less about, but when it came to Keiko…

Yusuke Urameshi: fourteen years old, cocky punk, near middle school drop-out, newly found to possess a little bit of a conscience. Great.

The young woman turned so the slope of her chest peeked into view, but Yusuke looked away before he saw her face.

Backing away from the window, the delinquent reflexively reached for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket. He scowled seeing only one left, but plucked it anyway and held it between his teeth, tossing the cardboard box unceremoniously away onto the grass before fishing for his lighter. A cicada hopped on top of the box, and the bug made for a _much_ more interesting subject than the locker room girls. He took a long drag; tobacco smoke filled his lungs.

The burning in his face must have been from the hot spring day and the lit cigarette. He was _not_ blushing. Yusuke Urameshi had no reason to blush because he was thinking about pachinko, Takenaka's stupid brown suit, _that Kuwa-something guy_ , and not and not the perfect dark little mole on her back.

Tendrils of smoke curled lazily toward the sky. Just second period, but… _time to ditch_. In the middle of the morning, the pachinko parlor would be nearly empty. Also, he needed cigarettes.

Yusuke leaned against the wall of the building, pulling again at the cigarette and shut his eyes.

 _That was a mistake_ ; Yusuke only saw the birthmark again. He would never be able to look at his best friend again without remembering it.

Probably best if he skipped tomorrow as well.

 **xxx**

 **Author's Note:** "Now I know I'm being watched. How creepy is that? I owe a major apology to the locker room girls after second period gym." Yusuke, Episode 80. xD

.

FYI- I have significantly edited "41. kiss"; if anyone enough cares to go back, I think it's much better now. Seriously, how authors can publish their work and not continue to pick and change and correct it is beyond me (I also make edits to homecoming all the time).


	4. 40 - Parasite

**Author's Note:** More drabble-y than the others, but I felt bad for not updating and they can't all be 1-2 pages. Also, unfortunately, I'm still studying (and probably shouldn't be writing fanfiction anyway)…

 **xxx**

 **40\. Parasite**

"Yusuke."

His friend's (girlfriend's?) temperate voice caught his attention; he'd zoned out, but he didn't think she'd been gone _that_ long.

The delinquent tore his eyes from the static image on the television screen – the movie comically paused just as the hoard of mint-green, gaping-mouth undead converged on The Nerd, his thick-rimmed glasses hanging skewed off his nose, frozen midway through crashing to the floor.

The horror movie might have seemed like an odd choice for the two (especially for Miss 'I-Know-a-Great-Foreign-Art-Film'), but they'd always watched them, ever since Mr. Yukimura accidentally left two seven-year-olds alone with _The Man Who Doesn't Die_ (in which Yusuke smothered down his fear in order to put on a brave face for Keiko, who spent seventy-five percent of the film with her head buried in Yusuke's back). It left Atsuko wondering why her son woke up with nightmares every night for a week ("What the hell? Toughen up, squirt."), and little Keiko determined to watch at least fifty percent of the next movie.

Though now, Yusuke got a genuine kick out of over-the-top gratuitous violence, and Keiko managed to cope by intellectualizing – criticizing the silly clichés and simultaneously digging her fingers into Yusuke's arm (which he didn't exactly mind either).

"C'mon, Keiko, hurry up."

"Yusuke. There's a mosquito in the bathroom."

"Yeah, and…?"

"So, go kill it."

Condescending smirk graced his features and Keiko told herself not be bothered by it. She should have known, despite the attempt to sound casual, Yusuke wouldn't just let it be and do what she asked, what with his irritating need to contradict anything and everything she said. He tilted his head over his shoulder to flash an amused grin at her. "Seriously? Just go. I wanna see this guy get eaten."

"No," Keiko ran her fingers through her fluffy brown hair and tucked a short piece behind her ear – a habit which tipped him off that she was feeling nervous or flustered. She pushed her knees together. "I need you to go kill it."

"Whaat? Since when can't Keiko handle a spider?"

"It's not a spider, it's a _mosquito-_ "

"It's a little bug-"

"Yusuke, please-"

"-what's a mosquito ever done to you?"

Apparently, his question was so ridiculous that Keiko snapped in a second from flustered to annoyed and (in classic Keiko fashion) crossed her arms across her chest, quirking an eyebrow at him - her glare the only thing she offered in response.

The punk stared in silence, ignoring the voice in his head telling him how cute Keiko looked when she glowered at him like that, as the gears turned in his brain. Sure, Keiko had gotten _girly_ , but she was much tougher than anyone expected her to be, and she could handle herself pretty damn well. Just look at how-

Yusuke reflexively glanced at the healing rope-like scar under her right shoulder.

Oh.

 _A pale high school punk (eerily similar to the ones on the screen), fallen on the sidewalk after a well-placed whack from Botan's crude weapon, as a spindly green insect crawled out of his open mouth. Two distinct red marks on its body, silver flitty wings, six long spindly legs and a needle-like mouth._

He wondered briefly if the movie hit closer to home too; it was not exactly unlike an orchestrated plan to turn a group of strange men (and Iwamoto), possessed by demon insects powered by the pulse of a stupid-looking flute, cornering Keiko alone at night in their middle school - Suzaku smugly narrating his heroine's tragic death and badly attempting to soundtrack her demise like an asshole. A flash of fear and he saw Keiko's wide frightened eyes again. Oh yeah.

"Right," the detective answered sheepishly, pushing himself up from the couch. "Yeah, right. I'll take care of it."

x

The Nerd crashed backwards onto the pavement, and his glasses crunched under a disgusting-looking zombie foot. Keiko tsk'd. "I knew he would die first, it's so predict-" A dirty fingernail plunged straight into Nerd's exposed eye, and Keiko's criticism cut short as she pulled Yusuke's bicep closer to her chest and forced her head between his shoulder and the couch. "…predictable," she eeked out.

Yusuke stiffened, still uncomfortable with such close proximity, even if he didn't hate it. Tempted to comment on how his arm was going numb, he bit back the obvious remark about her being clingy. Keiko peeked her head back out in time to watch The Nerd become The Zombie Nerd without releasing her grip. Just this once, Yusuke thought, he'd let it go.

 **xxx**

 **Author's Note:** And ever since, Keiko had a deeply rooted fear of flying insects. Sorry for revisiting something similar to "41. Kiss", but it's what I was in the mood to write today.

Also, I never actually realized how important and wonderful reviews are until I published my own work (and started making a better effort to leave them myself), so as always, they're very appreciated. Every single one makes my day. :)


	5. 22 - Turquoise

**Author's Note:** Once again proving that I am incapable of writing anything less than 1000 words. Please enjoy friends! Should have a few more updates by the end of August as well.

 **xxx**

 **22\. Turquoise**

"Okay, concentrate your energy here."

Light from the television splayed in flashes along his profile. _Teal, white, blue-_ cutting across the angle of his jaw and filling in around the deep set of his eyes. He squeezed his hands around hers, as if to underscore his point, and Keiko hoped the light from the forgotten wrestling-whatever-show was doing something to mask the color rising in her cheeks.

Pushing the thought aside, Keiko frowned. Even after she'd convinced Botan to tell her everything – from spirits to demons to humans all across three realms – the ferry girl couldn't convey what spirit energy _felt_ like. Sure, she could accept the draw of that power, that tapping into it allowed Yusuke to take his love of fighting to greater, unfathomable heights, but that didn't mean she understood it.

The girl sniffed. "You haven't told me _how_."

Yusuke's dark eyebrows drew closer together, like he'd never considered it before. That wasn't surprising. Yusuke wasn't one to give much thought to anything, and given his performance in the tournament, wielding spirit energy came as naturally to him as breathing.

"That's really all Koenma gave me to go on the first time I tried it. I've never thought about how to explain it before."

Keiko waited as he tried to collect his thoughts. Instead, her eyes fell to consider her hands in his again. Against Yusuke, hers looked soft and petite – short nails painted a dainty shade of purple since it was the weekend. His already tawny skin was tanned from months training in Genkai's compound, knuckles still bandaged from injuries sustained in the final, cut and bloodied after grating against Toguro's unnatural gray body.

"It's like…" he began, "when you close your eyes, and you still know where your body parts are. Spirit energy's kinda like that, I guess – you know it's there even if you don't see it. Just try to imagine it's circling all throughout. It'll be warm when you find it, and you want it to focus it into your fingers."

It was Keiko's turn to knit her thin dainty eyebrows together. This was silly. Maybe closing her eyes would help, but that would only make her feel sillier and awkward in front of Yusuke. Nothing would happen. Keiko lacked awareness like Kuwabara and Shizuru, and she'd never died and gone to Spirit World like Yusuke. Based on Botan's explanation of it, humans shouldn't be able to see energy at all, and while she couldn't exactly explain away that one, Keiko had no doubt she was just a normal girl.

She did wish there was some sort of power to will away the heat flushing her collarbones. Around Yusuke, any hint of embarrassment left her wide open for teasing. And it wasn't as if he were groping her or pulling at her skirt; the Spirit Detective waited unusually still, taking care not to move lest he impair her concentration or something. Even though he was hard and calloused, Yusuke felt warm. That he was capable of such an easy, gentle touch never failed to surprise Keiko, but even more so after witnessing the extent of raw power and violence he could inflict with fists alone. How strange, sitting together watching TV in his room, when less than a week ago he'd happily sank his heels into knives to pummel a drunk man with a mohawk and delighted in sending a demon shinobi one hundred meters in the air.

"Yusuke, nothing's happening."

"Yeah, I guess," he conceded. "The first time Kuwabara did it, he had a special stick... thingy... that drew it out." Keiko doubted either of them had one of those lying around. "Probably for the best, you know," he continued, "I wouldn't wanna have to deal with a _spirit-powered_ super-slap." The boy offered his smuggest, self-satisfied grin, squeezing her palms fondly.

Keiko glared and pulled away. "I do _not_ have a super-slap."

Yusuke only grinned wider, breaking into that snicker that both annoyed Keiko and annoyingly endeared him to her.

She tsk'd and tugged his wrists into her lap (ever watchful to make sure he didn't do anything perverted), holding the backs of his bandaged hands the same way he had. "You do it."

In less time than it took to blink, a perfectly round, blue sphere gleamed into life at the end of his index finger. Three identical shapes followed at the tips of his remaining fingers – the show off.

Keiko pulled Yusuke closer, handling him gingerly. The light flickered slightly – like the flame of a candle – but glowed with a warm, steady intensity, and such a pretty, brilliant aquamarine. The glare coming from the television couldn't even compare; Yusuke's spirit energy might as well be the only source of light in the room.

She had been honest with Botan, when she said giving Yusuke space during the tournament felt like the right thing to do – happy for him and happy he could belong somewhere for a while, after being so angry and so lonely for such a long time.

But truthfully, she also felt surprised and confused and worried and even upset after watching Yusuke fight. He was a delinquent and got into trouble a lot; he always took on opponents twice his size – rough boys that carried knives and didn't play fair. It was quite another thing to challenge beasts who command lightning and revel alongside blood-thirsty demons in violence and impossible power.

Many (too many) people misunderstood – even cowered in front of – Yusuke, but never Keiko. And yet, for a moment, the boy in the ring was totally unrecognizable as her troublesome best friend.

She sought him out in the forest, not because he wanted to see her, but because Keiko needed assurance he was still him. And sure enough, when they did meet, Yusuke whined and bickered and played his stupid pranks. He irked every nerve in her body, but the worry in Keiko's heart dissolved because he would always be her personal pain in the ass, and that would never change.

 _Yusuke_ had changed though.

Her friend's strange new ability didn't make him violent – he had always been that way. Yusuke used his fists to beat down an entire world rooting against him, with the goal of standing at the top of the pile where no one could hurt him.

And even though Keiko knew what Yusuke could do to the world now, if he wanted to, his hands were still inviting. Because he wielded it to help friends he'd grown to really care about, fighters he'd never met; he _defended_ the world from people like Toguro. And, Keiko realized, she'd experienced the warm, vivid, beautiful light many times before today; washed over an entire stadium even as it threatened to crumble, shielding her and Botan from a deadly horde led by her least favorite teacher, and surrounding them both when escape seemed impossible in his burning home. Even in death, way back then, it was that power Yusuke now used to keep others safe.

The lights winked out. Fingers closed around her chin, pinching softly and giving her head a little shake. "Hello? Earth to Keiko." She blinked up at him, the same _white, blue_ glow from the screen slanting across his features. "You get hypnotized or something?"

Her pink lips turned down, and she could feel the splotches of color on her face again. She hadn't meant to drift off like that... _Stupid..._ getting caught up in thoughts about Yusuke when he was right in front of her. "Cut it out," she managed, pushing his hand away.

"Sure you're okay? You look sweaty."

"I'm fine!"

Yusuke squinted, as if deciding whether or not pushing the issue was worth it, and the girl readied herself for the possibility of something rude flying out of his mouth, or worse. Before he could, she continued, "I'm really fine. Thanks for trying to show me, Yusuke."

That seemed to be enough; even though the skepticism lingered in his eyes, he shrugged noncommittally and turned to face the TV again, sitting a little closer together than he had when they started.

Keiko smiled softly to herself, letting it go as well. It would be her secret – the new reason blue was her favorite color.

 **xxx**

 **Author's Note:** Always wondered how Keiko (and Atsuko in the manga) could follow the Dark Tournament when it's established that normal humans can't see spirit energy. So… let's say Atsuko can because she is also a descendant of Raizen, and Keiko can because of Conjuring Blade shenanigans.

Reviews loved and appreciated!


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